


On The House

by ficteer



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, background tajihana if you look hard, this fic is rated g for gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps it wasn't just the latte that kept him coming back, he supposed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The House

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of the lovely pic by my friend alex, [here](http://bokuboks.tumblr.com/post/48977009776/coffeshop-au-bc-lets-b-real), which has ruined me for a long time and we all know now what happens when i get ruined by a pic

It wasn’t exactly his post-collegiate dream job, but there was something about the relative peace of the sports shop that had Abe… content. Perhaps not happy, not the gilded word that had been promised to him all his life, and it was probably not the end of his career path, and it  _definitely_  was not his choice to have one Tajima Yuuichirou as a coworker, but for now, it was enough. He could afford nicer clothes, his (one bedroom) apartment was comfortable, and he didn’t  _have_  to live on cup noodles. (He just did, considering anything much more complex was, he had to admit, a fire hazard.)

And so it was for almost a year after graduating from university, hired on to the sports shop to put away boxes, tack down numbers, and get into baseball conversations that had a surprising conversation rate into sales as Tajima told it, that Abe Takaya fell into a comfortable pace. A slow pace, yes, but comfortable. Comfortable enough that when there was a small change, a tiny report on the local news one evening that some of the local shops were having a tough time, financially, and the tiny coffee shop he frequented on his way to work flashed by long enough for him to feel the stroke of irritation.

The Ball was the only coffee place between his apartment and the sports shop, and because of its size it was never too busy, unlike the larger chain coffee shops further down the street that bustled and were filled with noise. The Ball had wifi, good coffee, and the thought of it going out of business has Abe pouting on his couch until the last minutes of the weather report. It was going to be a chilly morning tomorrow, he thought, switching over to the sports channel before cracking open his second beer. A perfect day for a coffee.

\----------

Abe woke the next morning and completed his usual morning ritual, consisting of about five minutes of glaring at his alarm, rolling out of bed, scratching his stomach before stripping off his shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket on his way to the bathroom. When he was clean and relieved, he got dressed in his blue sweater and black slacks, remembering last night’s warning for the cooler temperatures. He almost considered a scarf, but he opened his door to check and decided it wasn’t necessary. He left his apartment after grabbing a bagel out of his cabinet, chewing on it as he walked down the sidewalk towards work.

The smell of coffee stretched a few buildings past The Ball’s facade, the three little cafe tables on the sidewalk as empty of customers as Abe had always seen them. He’d never really thought about it, but after last night’s news report, he supposed that the large chain stores coming into the area were probably to blame, and he’d just never noticed.

The bell above the door jingled charmingly as he opened the door while popping the last bite of bagel into his mouth, and Abe looked up to the counter, expecting the tall bald guy that usually served him and instead spotting someone much smaller, his blond hair sticking out messily beneath the cute little cap the coffee shop uniform had and a stick-thin waist accented by the apron tied tightly around him. Upon hearing the bell, the blond turned, blinking with wide hazel eyes and then flashing Abe a nervous half-smile.

“O-oh, welcome to… The Ball! Can I take your… um… what would you…”

“Just a latte,” Abe responded, deciding that it would probably take him as long as he had before work to wait for the guy to get the sentence out, let alone actually make the drink. He reached back into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping through to grab the cash to pay for the drink. The blond - Mihashi, Abe read off his name tag - took it and poked around on the register, one button after another until he started to get visibly distressed. Then, finally, the machine made a loud beeping noise, and just when Abe thought the blond was going to break into tears, the cash drawer shot out and hit him in the stomach and earned an ‘oof!’. “Uh, you okay?”

“Y-yes,” Mihashi responded on an exhale, quickly taking the cash and counting out Abe’s change. He then handed Abe the receipt, and walked over to the coffee machines, grinding the beans and getting the milk hot. Abe took the chance while the blond’s back was turned to pull out his phone and look at the time. He was a little late, but if he walked fast, it wouldn’t be a problem.

_Clunk._

“Oh, no,” Mihashi’s quiet voice came, and Abe felt his heart sink into his stomach. For fuck’s sake. It was only confirmed by the way Mihashi cautiously looked over his shoulder to peer at Abe, making a small startled noise when he saw Abe watching him and jerking back towards the coffee machine, shoulders now hitched up to his ears which were burning bright red. Another glance at his phone for a time check, and Abe sighed, audibly enough that the blond made a desperate noise and started jerking things around the coffee machine, grabbing and pulling and ( _clank clunk kerplunk fshhhhhh)_ generally doing things Abe was pretty sure  _wasn’t_  fixing the coffee machine.

Abe reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, hands settling on his hips. Then, just as he opened his mouth to tell the blond not to worry about it, he’d just come back later, please for the love of God he was going to be late, Mihashi turned, eyes filling with tears as his hands rested on the counter. “It’s almost done, please don’t… leave, not yet, I’m almost…!”

Abe watched as the blond whirled back around, and with another hiss, he watched as Mihashi poured the coffee into a cup at long last, steamed the milk, and then drizzled some caramel syrup on it shakily. It might have even been pretty, had he not been a nervous wreck, but the top clipped on to cover it and then Mihashi turned, handing him the cup and staring hard at the counter. “Th… ank you, for your patience, s-sir…”

“Yeah, thanks. Good luck, uh, fixing that,” Abe said, turning on his heel and heading straight out the door to turn down to work. He was still just barely fine for time, walking fast and watching as people around him gave him concerned looks. Then again, Shun had always poked fun at him for how grumpy he looked in the mornings, and after his experience in the cafe, he was sure he was quite the looker right now.

 _New guys_ , he thought sourly, lifting the cup to his lips when he got to a crosswalk and taking a sip. The coffee hit his tongue, and the moment the roasted harmony of coffee bean and caramel caressed his tastebuds, highlighted perfectly with rich cream that was not too sweet and yet a delight to his palate, Abe closed his eyes, letting the brew linger on the back of his tongue before he swallowed. He looked down to the cup of coffee in his hands, prying off the top to where the cream was now smeared with caramel and the thick smell of freshly ground coffee caressed his face like a lover.

“Not bad,” he muttered to himself, popping the lid back into place and taking another sip, slow and appreciative, as he crossed the street. He slowed his steps just a bit so as not to burn himself, deciding that being a minute or two late was definitely worth coffee  _this_  good. Even if he’d nearly developed a migraine getting it, he thought, just thinking about the nervous wreck of a barista. He wondered how much the blond would flip if he specifically asked him to make his coffee next time, if he and the bald guy were there together. The thought made him smile.

“You look unusually pleasant this morning!” a cheerful voice called, and Abe focused his gaze to see Tajima standing outside their building, putting up one of the new promotional posters for a brand new line of baseball gloves they were getting in next month. Tajima’s teasing tone brought the mindless smile Abe hadn’t even noticed he’d had back into a scowl. “Didja get laid or somethin?”

“No!” Abe snapped, not needing Tajima to turn everything into sex first thing in the morning. He lifted up his coffee cup in a quick gesture. “Just… good coffee.”

“…Did you go the The Ball?” he asked, tilting his head when Abe nodded. “I mean, Hanai’s cute and all, but I didn’t think he was your type, and the coffee isn’t  _that_  good - ” Abe, reluctant to part with even a sip of his coffee but needing Tajima to understand that  _no the coffee really was that good_ , extended the cup out. Tajima took it after a beat of hesitation, popping off the lid and taking a sip. Abe saw the moment Tajima got through the cream to the coffee, his eyes widening and looking down into the contents. “You really got this from The Ball?”

“Yeah, now give me my coffee.”

“Oh, hell no, go get your own cup.”

_“That is my own cup!”_

After a brief struggle in which not a single drop of coffee was spilt, Abe managed to wrangle his latte away from Tajima and stomp inside the store for opening. It wasn’t too unusual for Momoe not to be waiting at the front counter, peering at him over her sports magazines and order forms while Ai yipped a greeting at him, and he’d prepared himself for it as he was indeed a minute late, but today, the front counter was empty, the register open and logged on to Tajima’s name. With a huff of relief that he’d not only gotten  _fantastic_  coffee but he hadn’t even been punished for it, Abe took his place at work and started his day.

\----------

Despite how excellent the coffee was, it was a busy day, and by the time he was walking home, exhausted from having the coach of the nearby high school soccer team raid the store for gear, Abe passed The Ball without notice.

The next morning, however, was a different story. Spring was still young, and the mornings still had a bite of chill, and after a long workday, Abe greeted the morning as grumpily and in need of coffee as ever. Another bagel left his apartment with him, munching eagerly, and by the time he smelled the coffee, he suddenly remembered just how excellent yesterday’s cup had been and wondered if it would be the same today or if the poor nervous wreck Mihashi had just spooked his way to the best latte of Abe’s young life.

The bell chimed as Abe finished off his bagel and stepped inside, and his first thought was that the place was empty both of patrons and baristas. He scowled, ducking back to check that The Ball was indeed open, and in his split hesitation, there was the sound of footsteps hurrying in and -

“S-Sorry, I was unloading and - oh, w-welcome back,” Mihashi said, had askew on his head and apron strings loose behind him. He fixed his hat, face burning bright red as he tied the apron and stepped up behind the counter, hazel eyes wide in a face far too telling of just how well he remembered the hectic mess yesterday had been. Abe looked over to the coffee machine, which had a piece of paper now taped over it that said ‘out of order’ in mediocre handwriting. “Um…”

“Can you still make coffee with that thing out?” Abe said, looking from the broken coffee machine back to Mihashi, who jumped at the question as if Abe had suddenly put him on the spotlight. His hands came up to tangle in the sides of his apron, worrying the fabric to wrinkles beneath his grasp.

“Actually, um, I… prefer… not…I don’t like…” he mumbled, blinking at Abe, who felt the glower on his face. It was a yes or no question, he thought, about to open his mouth when the blond seemed to put his mouth back into working order. “Yes! Yes, I can… still…! I can still make it!”

Abe reached to his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out the bills needed for the latte he’d ordered yesterday. “I’ll have a latte, then. Same as how you made it yesterday, if you can manage it.”

The blond took the bills and fought with the register for a few seconds, going through the same stressful beeping mess that he’d demonstrated to Abe the day before and, just as he had yesterday, earning a cash drawer to the gut at the end. He handed Abe his change while rubbing the spot over his apron, walking over to the coffee machine that had expired yesterday, apparently. Abe watched curiously, though he couldn’t see through Mihashi’s back, and the same  _clank clunk fshhhhhh_  filled the air in perfect combination with the luxurious aroma of perfect coffee.

Mihashi ducked down to the small refrigerator beneath the cabinet and grabbed a container of milk, quickly steaming it and foaming it before pouring it into the rest of the to go cup that held Abe’s coffee, and once again he drizzled caramel sauce over the top. Today, however, not as rushed as he had been, the lines were even and pretty, even, and Abe was almost sad to see them disappear beneath the top. But disappear they did, and then Mihashi slid a cardboard slip on it, turning to bring it to Abe with two hands holding it carefully.

“Here you go,” Mihashi said in a small voice, and Abe reached out, taking the hot cup and bringing it to his lips. He took a slow sip, mindful of the fact that it was fresh and steaming even through the tiny hole in the lid, just to see. Cream, then the caramel, and then the coffee, as perfectly roasted and brewed and mixed as it had been yesterday. He closed his eyes, savoring each complex layer of richness and tang on his tongue. He then lowered the cup, tapping a finger on the lid, exhaling softly before he opened his eyes again to see Mihashi studying him curiously and, Abe realized, a bit nervously.

“This is really good,” he said, looking down at the cup and popping the lid off before he swirled it around and studied how the caramel lines shifted and pulled. “I thought yesterday might have been a fluke, but you make a really good cup of coffee.”

Mihashi made a tiny noise, fingers reaching up to cup his cheeks as he wiggled around, face turning bright pink as his eyes went everywhere in the coffee shop  _except_  for Abe’s face. “Y-You’re just… saying that… I’m…!”

“No, seriously,” Abe retorted, putting the lid back on his cup as he took another sip, carefully ignoring what looked like an impending breakdown on Mihashi’s behalf. There was no way he’d have time to deal with that before getting over to the shop. In fact - he pulled out his phone to check the time and realized that he was actually a few minutes behind schedule as it was and would, just like yesterday, have to haul ass to make it in time. He looked to the blond one last time. “Are you gonna be here every morning, or…?”

Mihashi squawked indignantly. “Wh - !? I’m…?! Why are - ?!” A few more broken words, completely incomprehensible came out of his mouth, and Abe rolled his eyes while backing up to the door.

“Yeah, you… you work on that. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re here,” Abe called, and with a chime of the bells, he was through the cute little door and onto the chilly sidewalk. A breeze picked up, tickling his skin and causing his shoulders to hitch up with a faint self-damning that he hadn’t brought a scarf. Thankfully, it was but a short walk from The Ball to the sports shop, and by the time he was through the door and under the cinnamon gaze of Momoe, he was right on time.

Ai barked sharply at him, tail wagging from her place on the front counter. Abe reached out, his free hand ruffling her between the ears, and she leaned into the embrace, then sulked at him when he pulled away. “Coffee smells good, Abe-kun!” Momoe said, lowering her sports magazine to get a better look at the mug. “Oh, that’s from The Ball, isn’t it? I thought they were going out of business.”

“I hope not,” Abe responded, looking from Ai to his boss. “They’ve got a new guy there,  blond named Mihashi. Makes a mean latte. You should go check it out.” Momoe hummed under her breath, then picked her magazine back up. “Is Tajima here yet?”

“Yep! He’s in the back checking out the new shipment. Why don’t you go see if he got everything put together right? I’m sure he couldn’t quite make it to the top shelf!” Momoe then laughed, burying her nose in the magazine, and Abe left her to her own devices to take his coffee back to the storeroom to get to business.

\----------

Despite Abe’s promise, the next morning, he woke up late and didn’t get a chance to stop by The Ball on his way in. He did, however, hesitate by the door for a brief second, wondering if he would risk being late for one of Mihashi’s latte treats, but just the thought of Momoe’s wrath at the very idea had him cringing away from the door and back to the sidewalk. He felt the sulky expression on his face and heard it in his tone when he greeted Tajima a few minutes later, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. Not when his mouth was devoid of the coffee he’d gotten addicted to in just two servings.

He did, however, make his way to The Ball for lunch instead of the usual cafe he hit up (sort of glad, in a way, because the freckled server he tended to get there was a bit of an ass, in his own sarcastic way). He pushed open the door, the cutsie little bell twinkling above his head, and he looked to the counter to see Mihashi only to see the bald-headed guy instead.

“Oh,” he said, deflating a bit, and at his expression, the bald guy - Hanai, Abe remembered Tajima saying his name was, he thought, maybe, getting closer to verify with a name tag and yes his name was indeed Hanai - gave him a sour look.

“Don’t look too happy to see me,” he said, and Abe shrugged, peering around the coffee shop in search of blond hair and the delicious latte he hadn’t gotten that morning.

“It’s nothing personal. I’m just addicted to Mihashi’s latte,” he said honestly, and Hanai rolled his eyes.

“You and everyone else,” Hanai mumbled. “His grandfather owns the place, so when Mihashi needed a job and the place started looking like it was going out of business, he hired him for beginning wage. It’s not much, but I guess Mihashi’s glad to have it.”

“Huh,” Abe responded intelligently, eyes falling over to the coffee machine that was, yes, still broken. “I don’t suppose you know how to make one of his lattes.”

“Yeah, no. I can make you a cup, though, if you’re interested.”

Abe sighed out. “Yeah, I’ll take it. Also one of those little cake things you’ve got there. You don’t have any sandwiches or anything?”

Hanai ducked down, opening the glass case to take one of the pink cakes Abe had pointed to and put it on a little plate. “No, but I can put in a word that you’re interested and see if I can make it a thing.” Abe pulled out his wallet and paid for both the little cake and the cup of coffee, grabbing a fork and taking a bite while Hanai messed around with the backup coffee machine he’d set up to replace the one that was still out of order. The moment the soft cake hit his mouth, an unexpected twist of sweet and round flavors hit his palate, startling him still. He looked down at the cake, and it sat innocently on his plate, looking as boring as Abe had expected it to taste. But no, it was  _delicious_ , he thought, taking another bite and this time noticing a small hint of lemon beneath the vanilla, and a whole host of other subtleties he couldn’t identify but could appreciate.

“Here,” Hanai said, going to hand Abe the cup of coffee and rolling his eyes when it took Abe a second to reach out and take it. “Careful, those are addictive, too.”

“No kidding,” Abe agreed, taking the cup of coffee over to a small table and sitting down so he could fully appreciate the cake. He ate it in small bites, letting it sink in his tongue before he swallowed, and the coffee was good enough that it paired well with the flavors, and although it was quiet in the coffee shop, the music soft through the air around him, Abe almost wished he was in an even more secluded place so he could enjoy it even more. His kitchen, perhaps, or his living room. Somewhere where he didn’t feel quite so silly knowing he was making ridiculous faces at the cake.

By the time he finished the cake and coffee both, it was about time for him to go back to the sports shop. With a wave to Hanai, he trekked back out the door, hands in his pockets and braving the cold outside the door. Despite the bite on the wind, however, the sun felt warm, one last little hint of a kiss that spring was indeed coming and it wouldn’t be too long before he’d be uncomfortable in his sweaters. A sign that summer, the best season, was just around the corner.

When he got back to the shop, Tajima was already making a sale to a couple of people who looked from their gear to be on the tennis team for the local high school. As soon as they were gone, Abe leaned over the counter to hand Tajima his empty coffee cup, smirking deviously when Tajima took it with a hopeful look and then scowled upon realizing that the cup was empty. “You’re an asshole, Abe.”

“Hanai made it.”

“You’re  _really_  an asshole, Abe.”

Abe snickered as he went to go take stock of the inventory they’d put out that morning, grabbing the clipboard from behind the counter and stepping into the first of their seven rows of goods. It was his favorite aisle, the aisle with the baseball stuff. He picked up a baseball and ran his fingers over the red threads, a bittersweet nostalgia swelling in his gut and mixing with a taste of cake that suddenly somehow tasted quite like… hope. And then a thought, a silly thought, that maybe he could get into shape enough for a local adults league team or something, and he put the ball down in the bin, starting to count them out one by one.

\----------

The next time Abe saw Mihashi, it was a week later because of various things that had kept Abe away from the coffee shop until his lunch break. Though he was quite happy to get a slice of those bizarrely amazing treats that frankly belonged better in a sweets shop than a coffee shop, there was a peculiar jolt of happiness when he walked through the bell-announced door and saw hazel eyes look up to meet his own across the room.

But Mihashi wasn’t alone, and the second patron wasn’t a stranger.

“Abe-kun, good to see you!” Momoe greeted, and Abe hesitated in the doorway, blinking at his boss once, then twice, and then pulling himself together long enough to step up to the counter. “I came in to try Mihashi-kun’s latte after you enticed me so with it, and you were right! Best coffee in town!”

Mihashi flushed a bright red, fingers of one hand tangling in his apron while the others curled around his blond hair, eyes meeting Abe’s before falling to Abe’s chest. “Th… Thank you, for…”

“Oh, yeah, no problem. I told you you had good coffee,” Abe said, and Mihashi flushed even more, a dangerous shade of red, eyes lifting to meet Abe’s once more before a bubbly sound came out of his mouth that was, Abe realized, actually a giggle.

“Yeah, you did… Thanks, Abe-kun,” Mihashi mumbled, the finger curling his hair tugging on the blond coil before he straightened his back and met Abe’s gaze steadily. “How about a latte, no charge? As a thank you, for spreading the word, and…”

Abe suddenly remembered that Hanai had mentioned something about Mihashi’s grandfather hiring him for the store, and he opened his mouth to say no, but he clammed shut once again, unable somehow to deny the stars bright in Mihashi’s eyes. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

And then, Mihashi seemed to fill up with happiness as if he was a balloon and Abe had filled him with a lung full of breath, scooting over to the coffee machine that was no longer labelled as out of order. He didn’t use it, however, and Abe heard the same noises of whatever magic Mihashi was calling upon to make his latte as always, steaming milk and spreading caramel until he turned, eyes bright and face filled with an absolute delight to give Abe something as simple as a cup of coffee, and - and  _pride_ , Abe recognized, taking the cup of coffee from the blond and sipping it immediately. Ah. Yes.  _This_  was the taste he’d missed. This harmony on his mouth that started his morning off exactly as how it needed to be started.

“How is…?”

“Perfect.” And it was.

\----------

Somehow after that morning, Abe never missed a single day visiting Mihashi at The Ball, and though the blond tried to give him the latte for free every morning, Abe always forced the wad of cash into his long-fingered hands, Hanai’s words that Mihashi was working for reduced wages shimmering in the back of his mind every time he came close to breaking at the sight of Mihashi’s puppy eyes. But, once a week, he allowed himself a nod, if only because the way Mihashi just…  _sparkled_  while handing him the free latte was a quiet joy that put a smile on his face every time.

As the weather warmed from the newborn spring and matured to the warmer days, Abe did indeed abandon his sweaters. More importantly, the sports shop picked up in business, as the local high school was again in session, and with the beginning of spring came the beginning of the various sports seasons that had them as busy as could possibly be managed by their store. Every morning he arrived, new students were there, clamoring for their goods, until the moment he or Tajima one locked up the store, waving in exhaustion to go home and collapse on the couch with a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other. It got so busy, in fact, that for the second day in a row, Abe went without lunch, and when Tajima barked at him to please for the love of God either get the stick out of his ass when he was hungry or please for the  _love of God_  bring lunch the next day.

After an afternoon grocery store run that had him bringing more bagels back to his apartment than he needed for breakfast because now he could have them for lunch, too, Abe went to bed and rested well, got up the next morning, and walked to The Ball with not one, but two bagels in hand. He finished the first off, holding on to the second until he could get a bag from Mihashi to stick it in on his way to work.

“Good morning, Abe-kun!” Mihashi greeted the moment the bell rang and Abe stepped inside, noticing the two other people waiting on their coffee with mild surprise. It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been alone in the shop, but it was still unusual enough that he noticed. “The usual?”

“Yeah,” Abe called back, juggling his bagel in one hand awkwardly as he pulled out his wallet and fished through for the money. He managed to keep both the cash and the bagel in his hands and not on the floor, and he was quite proud of himself until Mihashi came up and blinked at the bagel he was holding with a look of confusion.

“What’s that for?” Mihashi asked, head tilting in an absolutely perfectly precious angle.

“Lunch,” Abe responded, huffing out impatiently. “Spring is busy for sports, so I don’t really have time to come over to get one of those little cakes, and Hanai still hasn’t put in for the sandwiches, so a bagel it is.”

Mihashi blinked, eyes flashing bright even in the low light of the cafe. “Wait, Hanai-kun didn’t tell me you wanted sandwiches… I could make them no problem,” he said, and Abe blinked back at him, both of them staring at each other, the jazzy backdrop music and chattering of the two high school girls all a buzz, and then -

“Wait,  _you_  make the food?!” Abe said, watching as Mihashi jolted in his skin at the loudness of his voice. An apology was clearly on the blond’s tongue, fingers having come up to wring together beneath his ribcage. “That cake… the pink one…”

“I’m s…sorr - ”

“No, stop - Mihashi, it’s really…  _really_  good,” Abe said, kind of frustrated that the only word he could think of for each delicate piece of flavor on his palate each time he’d consumed the cake was a measly  _‘good_ ’, but it seemed to work, as Mihashi stopped tangling his fingers into knots and instead blinked up at Abe, tears clinging to his lashes like a summer morning’s dew.

“W… Wait, you…? You like…?” Mihashi asked, hand lifting to wipe the moisture away as he sniffled a bit.

“Of course I do! It’s delicious!” Ah, yes, excellent, a word better than ‘good’, Abe thought. “Who did you  _think_  was coming here to have a slice almost every day?!”

Mihashi looked over at the girls sitting at the table and Abe followed suite, watching where they were observing the exchange and giggling behind their cupped mouths, hands hiding what were no doubt smiles and toothy grins at Abe’s misfortune. He tore his eyes back to Mihashi, purposefully  _not_  looking back over at them as he sighed out. Mihashi did the same, pink in the face as he wiggled, fingers mussing with his apron again. “Does… Do you need lunch? Today, I mean… I can…”

Abe peered into the glass container away from Mihashi’s flushed face, and when all he saw was cakes, he looked back at Mihashi’s face, lifting an eyebrow. “You expect me to have old cake for lunch?”

“…You were going to have an old bagel.”

Abe’s eyebrows both shot up towards his hairline at Mihashi’s little sass, and as if shocked himself, Mihashi’s eyes went wide and then shot down to the counter, face flushing red as the strawberry on one of the cute little cakes all the way up to his ears. “I, I meant, I could… I could make Abe-kun… something… If you have time…”

Abe pulled his phone out of his pocket, and truth be told, he didn’t. He’d gotten in the habit of leaving his apartment earlier than he had before, so he could have a little chat with Mihashi before work, but all that time had already been taken up. He looked up to tell Mihashi as much, but he was met with the blond’s back, shoulder blades working beneath the thin shirt as he pulled something together on the opposite counter, and when Mihashi turned, he had a small paper bag in his hands, stretched out towards Abe.

“It’s… It’s not much, but…” Abe took it, and Mihashi held his hands at his chest level, giving Abe one last half-smile before he waved him off. “You should go, or you’ll be late and… Momoe-san is scary when she’s mad…” Mihashi paled at the last bit, and Abe did too, a little, though he hoped not to the same degree as Mihashi had.

“Thanks, Mihashi. It’s perfect,” he said, and with a wave, he was out the door and off to the sports shop and another busy morning. And just like that first latte, he forgot about Mihashi’s little gift, until lunch time came and he went to retrieve his bagel and saw next to it the brown paper bag. He took it, unfurling the top and peering inside. There was a sandwich, an apple, and a tiny little bag of handmade cookies. Abe reached for the cookies first, and he opened the bag, taking a bite of one of them. It was some kind of chocolate chip, though there was a hint of cinnamon and… and something else, something he couldn’t recognize. It was soft and melted in his mouth, disappearing into a whispered kiss of flavor on his palate that had him groaning into the break room. Mihashi had  _definitely_  made them, he thought, taking the bag and holding it at arm’s length as he studied it. Then, suddenly, it hit him that it was probably Mihashi’s own lunch, and he’d given it to Abe, stuffing in a little bag of cookies for dessert.

“You idiot,” he mumbled to Mihashi, the blond blocks away but hopefully feeling all of the tender ire in Abe’s voice.

\----------

Spring matured into days that felt more like summer than they did winter, and as the sports teams trickled out of their spring rush for supplies, the sports shop again died down into its usual patronage of the occasional repair or replacement and not the huge bulk that had occupied them so heavily weeks prior. Abe did still, however, stop every morning at The Ball to get both his latte (now allowing himself two free cups a week since it was more and more frequent that he actually had to wait to get served with the increasing patronage) and his lunch of a sandwich and a small bag of cookies, handed to him by a pink-faced Mihashi who promised that this time it definitely  _wasn’t_  his lunch he  _promised_ , Abe-kun.

One morning after a night of an early dinner and bedtime, he’d woken particularly hungry, finishing off his bagel far before he got to The Ball, and still sorta hungry by the time he was walking through the door, bell announcing his arrival. Mihashi no longer greeted him just by the bell, because now it was common for others to come as well, but Abe did feel the particular thrill of joy when Mihashi looked up to greet  _whoever_  it was and lit up especially bright when their gazes locked.

“Abe-kun!” Mihashi called, finishing up the cappuccino for the old man in front of him before he walked up to the register, thanking the next customer for their order. Abe watched as Mihashi took the cash and smoothly operated the register, no longer getting the protesting beeps and leaning back out of habit, gut no longer hit by the ejecting cash drawer. He felt a sort of nostalgic smile pull on his face, because it was nice seeing the passage of time with Mihashi’s gained experience, but there was something Abe kind of missed about being the only one to greet Mihashi in the morning.

By the time Mihashi had finally gotten to Abe’s turn, the blond exhaled, eyes bright and mouth curled into a smile as they locked gazes. “Good morning, Abe-kun! Did you sleep well?”

“Too early and too long,” Abe replied, hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. Mihashi’s smiled fell a bit, and Abe floundered, not wanting to worry him. “But it’s fine. I’m just gonna be a little groggy today and hungry before I’m supposed to be. Nothing to worry about.”

Mihashi’s face was still a little soured, and Abe watched as the blond turned to make a latte without even having been asked to do so, taking a special care Abe definitely noticed and that made him swell with pride to be at the hands of such preference. He watched as Mihashi put a swirl of caramel on his coffee, popping the cap on and bringing it over to plop it down before grabbing a little paper bag and walking over to the glass refrigerator.

“Is turkey okay?” Mihashi asked, and Abe nodded, not replying with words because tasting the latte was much more important. He closed his eyes as he savored each complex layer in such a simple drink, wondering as per usual just how Mihashi could make something so amazing in such a small amount of time like it was nothing. Just like he baked like a god. Abe opened his eyes, staring at the menu, a sudden curiosity of whether Mihashi could cook  _real_  food too, and before he could stop himself, there was a flash of a mental image of Mihashi standing in the kitchen in his apartment, wearing the same silly little apron he had here at The Ball but without the silly little hat, and he was smiling, mouth parting and ‘ _Welcome home, Abe-kun~’_

“ _Hrkgk_!” Abe choked on a fast swallow of the hot coffee, cheeks burning as hot as his throat, and Mihashi jerked out from where he’d been folding the bag over, eyes wide and spine stiff in concern.

“A-Are you all right?!” Mihashi asked, and Abe nodded, eyes watering as his hand rose to his mouth to wipe at a bit of coffee that had missed, wondering just how much of his dignity he’d lost. He took the bag for his lunch, and Mihashi hesitated, obviously worried, but letting Abe go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mihashi,” Abe said in parting, voice a little hoarse and croaky from where his throat had been burned, his face no better as he went the entire way to the sports shop wondering just where the hell  _that_  mental image had come from. It wasn’t until he got to the shop that he realized that his lunch bag was a little heavier than usual, and when he got inside, he peered in and - “Oh my god,” Abe mumbled, pulling out a bag of little cake bites, an extra little snack Mihashi had put in there after hearing Abe would be hungry. He stared down at them, chest clenching a bit, and he reached a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. His stomach twisted, and deciding it was probably in hunger (even though he’d just eaten his bagel???? okay), he reached in and grabbed one of the cake bites. It was as impeccable as Abe expected.

Having register duty that morning, Abe took seat behind the counter, flipping through some of the sports magazines as he listened to Tajima hum some little popular love song under his breath in the back. He grabbed another cake bite, having put them on the counter in front of him to munch on through the morning, reading through and having a much better morning than he’d expected when he’d woken up, cranky as could be.

And so his good mood continued until a couple girls came in, looking like they were on the lacrosse team from their gear, and when they saw the bag of cake bites on the counter, one cooed to the other.

“Ooh, these look yummy. Keiko, here!” she said, snagging two, one for herself and one for her friend, and Abe stared in absolute horror as the girls mistook his morning snack for free fucking samples. But before he could snap at them angrily, he watched their faces melt into absolute bliss, and he kind of wondered for a second if  _he_  looked like that when eating Mihashi’s baking, and even if he didn’t, there was an odd pride that  _yes_   _that’s right Mihashi’s cooking is the best_ , and then the girls whirled on him, eyes wide and hands on the counter. “Where’d you get these?!”

“They’re so good!”

“The coach is gonna  _die_  when she tries these, oh my God!!”

Abe put his magazine down looking from his cake balls to the girls’ hopeful faces. Then, deciding the small sacrifice would be worth it, “It’s from The Ball, that coffee shop down the street. Take these and hand them out to people, and in return, tell Mihashi I sent you and to get each of you a bag on my charge.”

“Ohhhhh, you’re… kinda nice, you know that?” one girl said, giggling behind her hand as she took the bag of cake balls before looking to her friend. “C’mon, let’s get the stuff then go pass these out. We can go get the extras after practice, yeah?”

The girls grabbed an order they were apparently picking up for their coach, and with one last goodbye and thanks to Abe, they swept out the door, already handing out a cake ball to someone passing the shop and pointing in the direction of The Ball. Abe watched them through the glass, licking the vestigial taste of the cake ball out of his mouth before flicking his magazine open again, oddly content as he looked at the glossy pages despite the fact that he’d lost his snack.

\----------

The next morning, Mihashi had swooped in on him the moment he’d crossed the threshold, hands clutching Abe’s and eyes wide with gratitude, babbling a mile a minute in barely-comprehensible Japanese. It was only when Abe pulled the blond out of the doorway he could hear (which, by the way, when the  _hell_  did it get so crowded inside that Abe had to strain to hear Mihashi talking?). Hanai stood behind the counter, having joined to double up the slot when the business had boomed in the morning, allowing them the few moments to talk Mihashi apparently had demanded of both of them.

“Okay, what, now?” Abe said, and Mihashi inhaled, then exhaled, then tried again in a slower, steadier tone.

“Yesterday, lots… the whole team… so many!” he said, trying and  _failing_  at making sense as per usual. “They said… cake balls, you gave them, and…”

“Oh, those two girls,” Abe said, remembering, and Mihashi nodded rapidly, hands still clutching Abe’s and Abe very suddenly  _aware_  of it. He looked down at where Mihashi was holding on to him, then back up to Mihashi’s face, watching as the blond talked even faster than before, but instead of jagged fragments it was more like he was just trying to fit an hour’s conversation into five minutes.

“ -  _so many people_  and - cake balls you gave them and - the whole  _school_  apparently - Abe-kun you’re the  _best_  and - never so busy even when it was first opened and - ”

“Mihashi,” Abe said, and the blond clamped his mouth shut immediately, but the excitement was still there, thrumming just beneath his skin. Abe smiled, adjusting his hands a bit so that it wasn’t that Mihashi was holding his hands, but that they were holding each other, fingers threading together and a soft warmth passing through their skin. “It was  _your_  cake balls that brought them. You’re the one who makes the best coffee.  _You_  brought the shop back, not me.”

“But you were there first,” Mihashi said, voice soft, eyes soft, skin soft, everything soft until Abe realized that he was perhaps a little closer than he probably should be in the very,  _very_  busy coffee shop that had once been empty save himself and a very timid little blond. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and stepped back, clearing his throat but not letting Mihashi’s hands go, not when it felt like he’d fall apart if he did.

“You brought me back,” Abe admitted, and Mihashi burned bright red, fingers tightening on his almost to the point of pain, and then Mihashi’s eyes fell to their locked hands, shuffling nervously.

“Thank you, Abe-kun,” he said, quietly and sincerely. “I wasn’t sure… if working here was the right thing, but…” He looked up, and somehow in this light, the soft light of the coffee shop and beneath that silly little hat, Mihashi’s eyes looked like melted gold, rich and so full Abe almost couldn’t breathe for looking into them. “I’m glad. I’m really glad I did.”

“Me too,” Abe said, and he leaned forward until their foreheads could press together for just a brief moment, leaning back and watching Mihashi’s face blossom into the brightest smile Abe had ever,  _ever_  seen. And then, Mihashi pulled back and walked to the other side of the counter, and Abe followed, knowing that his special latte was waiting, and now, probably, he didn’t have the strength to even pretend to resist Mihashi’s puppy eyes at the offer of a free coffee, and somehow he knew that from now on, this one was on the house.

Sure enough, Mihashi extended out the coffee, and then a little brown bag with a lunch. Before he could take it from Mihashi’s hands, however, there was a blur of movement, Mihashi’s fingers curled in his shirt, and he was pulled forward into a fall that ended with his mouth pressed firmly against Mihashi’s. He wasn’t sure if the coffee shop fell to a hush at the spontaneous kiss or if it was just that he didn’t care about anything except the way Mihashi tasted of cinnamon and something else, something he couldn't describe but could definitely appreciate, but when he pulled back, the bustle around them returned as if everything was completely normal, and perhaps, Abe thought, it was.

And then he saw the spark in Mihashi’s eyes when they flicked down to the coffee and food and then back up with a teasing smile to match, and perhaps, he thought, one last laugh and one last kiss before he walked out of the door with a merry jingle of a bell, holding it open for the three customers that entered to replace him, perhaps the coffee wasn’t on the house after all.

 


End file.
